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Aug 2019
my hands tingle.
these hands don’t feel mine.
they don’t look like mine.
they resemble that of some scary witch,
nails long & sharp.
they don’t look mine.
this is not my skin.
my skin is lighter,
my skin is frail.
whos body is this?
how did i get trapped here.
i see myself in the mirror,
& i don’t recognize this girl staring back at me,
with such deep, dark, yet hollow eyes.
a doll, vacant but beautiful.
not what i would call beautiful…
but i guess she’s alright.
i feel sorry for her,
so empty.
i want to reach out & hold her,
tell her she will be alright.
as if she can hear me,
her eyes well silently
& tears drip slowly.
but still, that empty stare…
where have you gone?
i hear music playing,
but the sound is blurry
& the shapes around her are mumbled.
my arms feel weak,
as if i can’t lift them.
my eyelids are heavy,
as if i can’t keep them open.
where am i?
who am i?
is that vacant girl me?
that can’t be,
it can’t be….
nina
Written by
nina  29/F/Vancouver
(29/F/Vancouver)   
263
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